Chapter 24: Wandering the World with a Sword (VI)

Thunder raged like a celestial whip, tearing the sky asunder.

For days, torrents of rain had lashed the barren slopes of Mount Zhongnan. Amid the roaring downpour, a burly man in foreign garb braved the storm, uprooting tree after tree as though venting some primal fury. He stood nine feet tall, his arms hanging low like those of a mighty ape, his strength seemingly limitless. His skin was bronzed and weathered, his features fierce and wild. With each fallen tree, he roared in defiance of the thunder, his voice booming through the forest, sending rain-drenched birds scattering and driving even the fiercest beasts from his path.

When the rain finally lessened, the man opened his mouth wide and exhaled a long stream of hot breath. Harnessing his inner energy, he peeled off his soaked tunic and strode bare-chested into the bear’s den that served as his shelter.

“You’re back, Zang Batou.” The speaker was another man of the steppe, though smaller in stature, his skin dusky, his eyes sharp and predatory as a hawk’s.

Inside the dim cave, a shadow emerged from the crude wooden lean-to. A scarred retainer handed Zang Batou a set of dry clothes and silently attended him, the flickering firelight casting wild, shifting shadows upon the walls.

“Eagle Eyes, has there been word from the Zanpu? And what of the prince? Has he reached Chang’an safely?” Zang Batou asked gruffly as he changed clothes.

The cave, once a bear’s lair, was damp and shadowy. But, as they intended a long sojourn here, they had built wooden shelters and dug drainage channels along the sides. At the deepest part of the cave hung a well-cured bearskin, beside which rested a giant felling axe, its blade unsullied by rust despite the damp.

“Warrior Zang Batou, why did we not accompany the prince to infiltrate Chang’an?” This time, a Han man spoke, lean and wiry, whittling a piece of wood by the fire. “It’s hard living out here in the wild mountains.”

Zang Batou did not answer at first, continuing to dress. This Han man was a hunter, wanted for murder in the Tang lands, forced to flee. His hunting prowess had earned him respect among the Tibetans, and he now served as guide for this mission.

“Chang’an is for men. This—” Zang Batou gestured around him “—is for beasts.” He sat and tore into a roasted leg of lamb, speaking through mouthfuls.

The rain had barely stopped, thick clouds still brooding above, promising yet more storms.

Elsewhere, Wu Yueling spread a bearskin on the ground and let her little lynx cub play atop it.

“I’ve yet to ask, where do you come from, young lady?” Hua Chuer, dressed in dashing white men’s attire, twirled a paper umbrella with easy grace as she reclined upon the couch.

“Just some country bumpkin, second-generation poor,” Wu Yueling replied offhandedly, clad in black men’s garb, their contrasting outfits at odds like a pair of sparring actors.

“Second-generation poor?” Hua Chuer folded her fan, pondering the unfamiliar term.

“In my past life, I was a fine young lass from the village; in this one, still just a wild girl from nowhere. What more is there to say?” Wu Yueling sighed as she smoothed the lynx cub’s fur.

“You lose me with your talk of past and present lives, but I understand the rest. Still, for a country girl, where did all your riches come from? I thought you were of noble birth,” Hua Chuer remarked, opening her fan and waving it idly.

“Robbery and murder,” Wu Yueling replied without embellishment.

Hua Chuer fell silent for a moment, then changed the subject. “Never thought the rain would be so relentless these days. I had hoped to take you out for a stroll, but it seems that’s not to be.”

“You don’t have any money to go shopping anyway.”

“As it happens, I set out from Xiang County for the Leopard Manor, but the plan failed—my horses and luggage are all gone, lost outside and unrecoverable.” Hua Chuer’s tone was tinged with disappointment. She closed her fan and spoke softly, “I buried a treasure chest near Xiang County, filled with valuables. If only it weren’t raining, I’d have gone to dig it up.”

At the mention of treasure, Wu Yueling turned, curiosity lighting her eyes. “I’d wager that’s not treasure, but stolen goods.”

“Hmph, you can’t say that. And what about the gold you stole from that family? Wasn’t it ill-gotten as well?” Hua Chuer retorted, none too pleased.

“They deserved it. I never wronged the innocent!” Wu Yueling recounted the events of Shili Village near Jingzhou in detail, especially the collusion between the Cui family and the mountain bandits. Hearing of such villainy, even Hua Chuer agreed they deserved their fate and sat beside Wu Yueling, coaxing and comforting her, apologizing in a roundabout way.

“I say, you should give up thievery for good. Wash your hands of it, become my maid, retire from the jianghu, and enjoy a life of luxury by my side. Wouldn’t that be grand?” Wu Yueling coaxed gently, still troubled by Hua Chuer’s theft of an official seal from a poor village woman—who would now have to spend money she didn’t have to replace it.

“Alright, alright. Why do you always think of others and play the hero?”

“That’s not it. It’s just—you can’t steal from just anyone. If you rob the rich to help the poor, that’s another matter...”

“Oh, you don’t know! This token I have is the ‘Flying Flower Order.’ Anyone who receives it will be visited by me, the Flying Flower Bandit. No matter riches or treasure, I clean them out! In the past, I’d break open the grain stores of the wealthy and feed the ragged, starving orphans of the roadside through the bitterest winter.” Hua Chuer flicked open her fan, boasting with delight, her words pouring forth unabated.

Wu Yueling chuckled. “So you’re set on being contrary with me, eh? Still, you can’t just pick on ordinary folk—you have to mind your hands.”

“But if I don’t, how will I ever get into the city? There’s no other way.”

“I could just pay off the officials and have them let us through.”

“But if you won’t let me steal, I’ll die of boredom! Worse than forbidding me wine or meat! Please, please, Yueling!” Hua Chuer pouted, fluttering her fan to cool Wu Yueling, pleading coquettishly.

Unable to resist, Wu Yueling threw up her hands. “Fine, fine, you win—whatever you say goes.”

Hua Chuer gave a triumphant little cheer and glanced down at her chest with satisfaction—it really was quite ample. The lynx cub, blissful under her owner’s caress, mewed contentedly upon the soft bearskin.

Thunder crashed outside, the rolling peals terrifying in their intensity. Wu Yueling shrank her neck in spite of herself. She didn’t fear thunder so much as lightning, and in the face of such power, she felt a reverent awe—before nature, man was but a grain of sand.

“Young la—”

Hua Chuer had just begun to tease her for fearing thunder when, unexpectedly, voices drifted up from the street below.

“That thunder is something else! I never heard spring thunder like this back home.”

“Ah, it’s rare for Commissioner Chao to return to Xiang County. I’d hoped to take you to Lianxiang Qu Pavilion and have Li Wan’er play ‘Soul of Longing’ for you, to ease your homesickness. But the heavens conspire against us—this thunder, this storm! For now, let’s take shelter in this tavern.”

“You’re too kind, Captain Zhang. Now that the mountain’s silver mine is nearly exhausted, in another month the silverware should be finished. Inspector Yan has personally inscribed calligraphy for the craftsmen to engrave. Once the task is done, I can finally return to the capital.”

“I suppose you’re missing Brother Taibai?”

“Indeed. On the day we parted, he sang on the riverbank—I miss him dearly. To be treated as an honored guest by you, Captain Zhang, is more than I deserve.”

“Not at all! Once the work is done, I hope you’ll put in a good word for me with His Majesty.”

“Of course, it’s your achievement, after all. I’m merely along for the ride.”

“Haha, you’re too modest.”

Wu Yueling propped her chin in her hand, glancing at Hua Chuer, whose ear was pressed to the floorboards, listening intently. Wu Yueling felt both exasperated and amused—they had just agreed no more thieving, and here Hua Chuer was, eavesdropping on the officials’ conversation. Clearly, she had her sights set on the tribute silver; those sharp, thievish eyes gave her away entirely. Wu Yueling could only sigh, “Ah, dynasties may change, but a thief’s nature never does.”